


Un Solo Mondo (Noi)

by extraordinary



Category: Free!
Genre: (w/ hints of demisexuality), Friends With Benefits, Gay!Rin, Get Together-ish, M/M, Not Actually As PWP As You'd Expect, Pan/Bi!Haruka, Switching, globetrotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 07:45:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10239338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinary/pseuds/extraordinary
Summary: The one in which Haruka and Rin unexpectedly find themselves agreeing on one very simple — yet surprisingly fundamental — little thing:relationships are way too much trouble.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hinalilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinalilly/gifts).



> **To Hinalilly** : Here it finally is...!! I hope my best shot at your "friends-with-benefits" set-up doesn't disappoint you too horribly. As usual, I received heaps of help from my lovely beta **CacophonyOfWords** and my Moral Support Team: **Agaricals** & **TheGirlOnFandoms**. Without them, I'd never have been able to pull this one off. ♡
> 
>  **To everyone else:** I wanted to grant Hinalilly's Yuletide wish for a canon-compliant story, and somehow that ended up translating into... a lot of... research... and... links... being sprinkled throughout the entire story. Feel free to ignore these as you see fit, but in some cases the extra information will give you a little more insight into things that are only off-handedly mentioned. It'll probably require suspension of disbelief, but please look at the linked articles and images with Free!-goggles on ( & imagine how Haruka and Rin would fit into the real world)! 
> 
> Lastly, since this was written as a gift I'd prefer to leave Rin's level of experience up to the reader. I personally wouldn't put it past him to simply bluff his way through absolutely _everything_ , but considering the overall theme of the story a warning might not be out of place: it _is_ possible to read something a little darker into Rin's (re)actions, so please proceed with caution.

_**Sunday, April 19, 2009 (HAMAMATSU, JAPAN):** _

According to the backlit LED-display of the brand new — and 100% water-powered, to boot — [travel clock](https://www.solidrop.net/product/creative-personalized-water-power-alarm-clock-fashion-mini-digital-led-clock-bedside-mute-calendar-temperature-humidity-display.html) Rin'd entrusted him with barely a handful of days ago, completely unexpectedly and for no apparent reason whatsoever, it is **04:37 AM**. And the current temperature of their absurdly luxurious hotel room is a pleasant **19°C** , courtesy of [Okura Hotels & Resorts'](https://www.okura-nikko.com/japan/hamamatsu/okura-act-city-hotel-hamamatsu/) state of the art air-conditioning systems.

Haruka's bleary eyes haven't quite finished adjusting to the dim glow of the city below their 23rd storey window (sneaking in through a gap between the haphazardly drawn curtains), though, but he hardly needs to be able to see anything in order to sense Rin's continued presence in the room. It's probably an odd little side effect of their prolonged vicinity lately, come to think of it. Although he's always been inexplicably attuned to Rin's very existence. In an utterly maddening sort of way.

And now that they're finally slated to become part of the same team again...

 _Well_.

Something in the pit of Haruka's stomach has begun to _shift_.

Slowly but surely.

As a result, he's been left feeling unsettlingly breathless and disorientated — just a little more effectively than he'd care to admit to out loud, at that — ever since their joint success in Friday's 100m Freestyle preliminaries and semi-final. By none other than **_Matsuoka Rin_** , unparalleled pain-in-the-ass and troublemaker extraordinaire (rivalled only in success by a perpetually sugar-fuelled Hazuki Nagisa). And by Rin's seemingly unending proximity, his stupidly attractive smile, his alarmingly infectious determination, his unwavering faith, his questionable tastes in travel/hotel bookings, his penchant for knowing exactly how to get under Haruka's skin in the absolute worst _and_ best possible ways, the addictive quality of his unbridled laughter, and all of the poorly hidden insecurities he seems to be dead-set on carrying around with him wherever his feet take him.

Those kind of things.

To top things off: Saturday's spectacular neck-and-neck [final](http://68.media.tumblr.com/1e610efa3879fea8477f8cb3bb95edc0/tumblr_inline_obzkezNwz01qmzygz_1280.png) only seems to have made matters even _worse_. As if breaking the Japanese National Record (with an improbable 48.73), only a hair's breadth ahead of a harshly panting Rin, had actually managed to irreparably addle Haruka's brain. Somehow.

It's all so very _inconvenient_.

And it's actually starting to look like he'll soon be able to add yet another item to the growing list of things Rin does — completely unwittingly, most likely, and therefore without any remorse or even a hint of acknowledgement — to regularly leave innocent bystanders dazed and dizzy with the urge to reach out... and... simply... _touch_ , as well.

Because, underneath the crisply starched sheets of his own bed (all the way across [the unnecessarily large room](https://d3g2yh83to8qa2.cloudfront.net/wp-content/uploads/sites/35/2016/04/04055853/standard-1600x1000.jpg)), Rin is whimpering _._

Very quietly.

Every couple of seconds.

At first, though, a drowsy Haruka'd been ready to write the faint little noises off as the result of another one of Rin's — frustratingly recurrent — night terrors. Regardless of their relentless pre-[Japanese Championships](http://swim.seiko.co.jp/en/2009/S70701/eng_index.htm) training schedule (and Rin's numerous efforts to find a solution to the problem without resorting to the use of career-endangering medication), Haruka's 1LDK apartment is simply way too cramped for _anyone_ to successfully pull off a feat such as hiding something as huge and reiterative as a tendency to wake up gasping for air. And the fancy hotel room the two of them have been sharing for the past week-and-a-half or so really hasn't been faring all that much better, either.

That's why Haruka had almost gotten up to fetch Rin a glass of water. To lightly squeeze one of Rin's shoulders. To offer Rin a couple of awkwardly worded platitudes. And a brief, one-armed hug. Just to try and scratch Rin's chronic itch for _skinship_.

Before going back to his own bed.

To his own place.

The exact same way he's been doing every other night for the last couple of weeks now. Ever since Rin had shown up at his doorstep with a heavy gaze, an even heavier rucksack, and a veritable ton of goals and single-minded targets.

Rin sorely needs his sleep, after all. The long-awaited finale of the 100m Butterfly races is coming up in a little over twelve hours, for starters, and Haruka _knows_ how intent — and practically hell-bent, really — his brash friend is on beating the current Japanese Olympic Standard (despite the fact that the Olympic trials aren't even set to take place for another _three whole years_ ). Haruka even knows it in his bones, in fact. And in every nook and cranny of his heart, as well.

But he _also_ knows, by now, what Rin's nightmares sound like.

A lot better than he'd like to.

And it isn't _this_.

This intermittent, sleep-controlled shifting of weight — and _hips_ — on top of the mattress. This unfamiliar tension in the air. And the barely audible whimpering (occasionally followed up by the faintest of sighs and grunts). The little noises coming from Rin's bed kind of sound just as breathless as their creator has so very regularly been making Haruka feel these last few days, to be honest. During daylight hours. And without a single shred of mercy.

It's pretty obvious, then, that Rin is having an entirely different kind of dream tonight. An erotic one, to be precise. One that's probably been brought on by his recent string of successes. Or all of the resulting endorphins, perhaps.

And Haruka appears to be stuck involuntarily _listening in_.

Until:

" _Fuck_."

Just like that, Haruka freezes in place (much like the stunning marble statues of the [Stadio dei Marmi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stadio_dei_Marmi) he's not-so-secretly looking forward to getting to sketch during the opening ceremony of the [13th World Aquatics Championships](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2009_World_Aquatics_Championships), in the very heart of Rome, come August). His breath immediately gets stuck somewhere halfway down his throat and his increasingly hazy thoughts grind to an even abrupter halt. And he only just about manages to remember to squeeze his eyes shut at the very last minute, too.

The entire hotel room disappears behind his eyelids in an instant. The solid wooden dresser between their queen-sized beds (with the alarm clock perched precariously on the very edge of its impeccably polished surface), the mint-coloured chaises near the window, the faux-leather padding running along the wall behind the headboards, and the dark lumps of Rin's favoured warm-up and racing suits waiting for their owner at the centre of the table...

They're all _gone_.

And in their place a whole other set of images appears: ones of Rin sprawled out on his stomach, fists clenching and unclenching at random intervals, as he unconsciously attempts to find relief by rhythmically rocking his hips and groin into the mattress below. The sheets appear to have vanished into thin air. Like _magic_. And the pale skin of Rin's bare shoulders and back practically glows in the low light of Haruka's imagination. As if it's begging to be touched. Admired. Or simply eternalised on one of the pages of Haruka's latest sketchbook, even.

The unbidden thoughts hit Haruka with the force of a physical blow. And they steal his breath much faster, and even more effectively, than anything else has ever done before. It's all kinds of bewildering, to be honest.

Luckily, though, the unwitting target of Haruka's accidental voyeurism doesn't appear to be aware of anything happening around him. He's far too busy letting out a series of uneven exhales, instead. Followed by another, much quieter — if unmistakably _wretched_ — little noise. Something hovering perfectly in between an aborted, humourless little chuckle and a dry heave. Like he's suddenly on the brink of bursting into tears. Or _something_.

Haruka very nearly begins to reconsider his earlier conclusion, then, but before he can even work up the necessary nerve to break the silence — with a whispered _'Are you OK, Rin...?'_ (and an equally hushed offer to turn the lights back on for a little while) — Rin is already sucking in what sounds like enough air for both occupants of the room. Surprisingly loudly so. And then there's a distinct creak of a bed. Along with the telltale rustle of sheets. And clothing.

Rin's clothing.

The dark grey, loose-fitting pyjama bottoms Rin wore to bed, to be exact.

 _'Fuck'_ , indeed.

All at once, Haruka is suddenly uncomfortably reminded of the fact that Rin has quite the number of years of living in a dormitory underneath his belt. And that he's probably as good as used to occasionally taking matters into his own hands by now. _Literally_ , too. Without anyone else ever noticing, even.

Because if Haruka's attention hadn't already been drawn to Rin's bed, long before its occupant had woken himself up, then he'd probably still be none the wiser now.

There aren't any more whimpers now, to begin with.

Nor grunts.

Or sighs.

Not with Rin fully conscious. And in equal control of his actions. Again.

In fact, it's all so impossibly _quiet_.

And in the very next moment, triggered by a tiny little stutter in Rin's breathing (one that will undoubtedly stick with Haruka for a very long time to come), Haruka suddenly realises three incredibly agitating things: 1) Rin's silent fumblings aren't leaving him entirely unaffected, 2) Rin clearly isn't pleased with the situation and is simply trying to get it all over with as quickly as humanly possible, and 3) Rin wouldn't even be doing this at all if he were aware of his roommate's scrutiny.

All of which obviously means that Haruka shouldn't be allowing this to continue. Under any circumstances. Not without attempting some form of subtle protest, at the very least.

But he _does_.

And it all goes downhill from there, of course.

 

* * *

 

_**Saturday, July 11, 2009 (BELGRADE, SERBIA):** _

The [25th Summer Universiade](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2009_Summer_Universiade#Sports) in Serbia is Haruka's very first international competition as a member of the Japanese National Team, and he isn't at all surprised to find the strain of the past couple of weeks quickly getting the better of him (even though he'd much rather eat his own weight in Serbian desserts than admit that little fact out loud).

During the finale of the 100m Freestyle races at [7:03 PM](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=532343&gender=1&styleId=2&language=us) on Thursday evening, for example, he'd ended up clocking in at a rather unsatisfactory 48.57. In second place. Despite the fact that he'd actually managed to lead the pack for a good seventy-five meters or so.

It'd felt pretty exhilarating, too. For a little while. Until it suddenly hadn't anymore.

It's not so much the number that's bothering Haruka, though, as the knowing leer Rin had instantly levelled him with across the red section of the lane divider separating their heaving chests. _'How does it feel to get your ass handed to you by an absolute eye-sore of a Russian?'_ Those heated eyes had seemed to demand of him, right there, without even a hint of consternation. _'He's probably got a good 30kg on you, y'know? And[he's over two metres tall](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sergey_Fesikov), too. Doesn't that make you want to serve him your bubbles even more, Haru? You might get your chance in Italy. If you can manage to edge me out again first, that is. We both know the competition schedule's always giving one-stroke ponies like you an unfair advantage, you lazy asshole.' _

Either way, Haruka's efforts had still earned him his first proper silver medal. It's a pretty little thing, too. Shaped a bit like a doughnut. Or a ¥50 coin. And Rin doesn't even seem to have minded coming in 4th very much (although [Hirai](https://edodevenreporting.wordpress.com/2014/10/27/one-of-japans-best-coaches-swimming-mentor-norimasa-hirai/) immediately ushering him away, in order to discuss the promising results of the 100m Butterfly semi-final he'd competed in at [6:43 PM,](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=532343&gender=1&styleId=16) might have had a thing or two to do with _that_ ).

By Saturday's — _today's_ — Medley Relay races, however, Haruka's composure has already made a full recovery.

To a backdrop of Rin screaming Australian profanities at the very top of his lungs (along with a couple of other, marginally less embarrassing things about a possible [disqualification for the Russian team](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=532343&gender=1&styleId=40)), right over the far politer mishmash of [Ryousuke's](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=athleteDetail&athleteId=4063572) and [Hiromasa's](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=athleteDetail&athleteId=4044666) encouraging cheers, Haruka finds himself easily securing Japan a spot in the final. By practically doubling the lead his teammates had so generously provided him with. As if the four of them have got something or other to prove. Which, in the wake of their own disqualification in the 4x100 Freestyle [preliminaries](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=532343&gender=1&styleId=27) on Sunday, they kind of _do_.

And they do it all over again roughly eight hours later, too.

At [7:23 PM](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=meetDetail&meetId=532343&gender=1&styleId=40), to be exact.

To win _gold_.

Which is how Haruka ends up wandering the unfamiliar staircase of the [Belgrade Art Hotel](http://belgradearthotel.com) with an increasingly touchy-feely Rin right on his heels (as if the idiot is simply incapable of shaking off the need to turn absolutely _everything_ into a competition long enough to complete as mundane a task as climbing a flight of stairs). It's almost midnight by now. And Rin's breath smells very strongly of [rakija](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rakia), an equally strong alcoholic beverage the two of them had been offered — very, very, very insistently — by [the raucous anchor](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radovan_Siljevski) of the Serbian team upon their joint arrival at the hotel lobby, while the rest of him positively _reeks_ of chlorine.

Haruka has no idea what the walking closet of a Serbian sprinter had actually said to Rin in order to get him to do something as uncharacteristic and ill-advised as _getting tipsy right underneath Hirai's nose_ , but the result is irrefutable: Rin is well on his way to inebriated, and it's been left up to Haruka to get him safely back to their shared room without inviting their coach's eternal wrath.

Fortunately, though, the two of them manage to reach their door on the 4th floor without incident. And, when they finally get there, the hallway is blissfully empty as well.

"Accepting those last couple of shots might not have been the best idea I've ever had," Rin regretfully mutters into the high collar of his jacket, then, as Haruka makes another failed attempt at swiping one of their key-cards. The idiot's currently leaning half of his weight against Haruka's left side, while the other half is lazily propped up against the door frame with a loosely bent elbow. "I'm probably going to need a whole extra session in the pool tomorrow. Just to work all of these damn calories off, I mean. You'll come with me, right...? After we escape [that mineral spa](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vrnja%C4%8Dka_Banja) Hirai-sensei keeps pronouncing the name of differently every single time he brings it up."

Haruka turns his head to eye Rin balefully from underneath the mess of his air-dried fringe, but makes no move to shrug any of Rin's considerable weight off. "It's Sunday tomorrow," He ops to remind his pain-in-the-ass roommate, instead, in a half-hearted bid to safeguard their only full day off from _training_. "And that spa's a three hour drive from here."

Despite his current state, Rin doesn't even blink. "That's never stopped you before," He fires back. Easily. And without missing a single beat. "You can't tell me you're not going to be absolutely fucking desperate for a proper swim, Haru. Not after a whole day of being forced to soak in a bunch of cramped little hot springs. We both know how much you hate that sort of thing."

Haruka turns his glare up a notch. "Haven't you been paying attention at all? Hirai said they aren't all _hot_ springs," He half-snaps, half-boasts, over the welcome _click_ of the heavy door in front of them finally unlocking itself. "There's one that's only supposed to be around [17°C](http://www.travelserbia.info/places/spas/vrnjacka.php)."

Rin frowns. "Ugh," He says. "What's the fucking point of visiting hot springs if they aren't even _hot..._?"

Haruka pointedly ignores the question in favour of voicing his own: "Why did you accept all those drinks, anyway?"

Rin pauses on his way into the bathroom. His hand hovers rather awkwardly over the doorknob. "Radovan's grandfather gave him that bottle to celebrate the new [PR](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=athleteDetail&athleteId=4172191) he managed to set on Wednesday," He eventually begins. "It was home-made, you know? It'd probably have been rude to decline. Europeans tend to get a little weird about that kind of shit, don't they? Besides, he really wanted to thank the two of us for taking the medley exchanges so seriously. _'Too many disqualifications'_ , he said. Especially in the final. Three out of eight's pretty fucking insane, isn't it?"

It's Haruka's turn to frown, then. "He didn't seem that upset when I turned down a refill."

Caught in the act, Rin guiltily averts his eyes. "Looks like you got me there, _Holmes_ ," He grants. With unnecessarily dramatic flair. As usual. "I'll tell you the rest after I brush my teeth, OK? My mouth feels kind of fuzzy. It's really gross."

Haruka doesn't feel like waiting, though. He simply joins Rin in the tiny little [bathroom](https://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/02/3a/a6/39/nice-bathroom.jpg) instead, politely pretends not to notice the way his friend seems to be keeping one hand braced along the counter for support, and sets about brushing his own teeth at the very same sink. True to form, of course, Rin immediately throws him an openly searching look through the mirror on the wall (before allowing it to morph into an equally guarded smile — right around his toothbrush — the very second Haruka works up the nerve to bump their shoulders together).

It's strangely domestic.

Familiar.

Comfortable.

And more than a little _comforting_ , as well.

They exit the bathroom and change into their sleepwear side-by-side, too. And once they're done with _that_ , Haruka dutifully checks the alarm clock while Rin makes his customary U-turn to take a leak. Opting to turn the air-conditioning on to provide some sorely needed white noise, he then slides underneath the covers of his [designated bed](http://belgradearthotel.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/IMG_5251-Art-Room-vs-Pre-twin-2-545x323.jpg) — nearest to the window, just the way he likes it best — and waits for Rin to come back and turn the lights off.

Rin does.

The way he always seems to be doing these days. If a little more clumsily, though.

And he also makes good on his promise: "I thought it might help with the nightmares," He half-confesses, half-declares, from the safety of his own bed barely an arm's length away. "I know it's already gotten a lot better lately, but I'm hardly about to settle for _that_. I want it fixed. Completely. For good."

Haruka makes a non-committal little noise in the back of his throat and rolls over to face Rin in the dark. And then he asks the one thing he's never dared to ask Rin directly before: "What are they about?"

As expected, Rin hesitates. For a good while. But the lingering effects of the rakija — in combination with Haruka's unprecedented curiosity, most likely — have obviously loosened his tongue quite a bit. "A lot of stuff," He quietly divulges. "Mostly my old man, I guess. But swimming plays a big factor, too." There's a pause, then. "And then there's _you_." And another one. "Sometimes."

Haruka's breath gets stuck in his throat. It's kind of been doing that a lot recently. " _Me_...?"

To his credit, Rin instantly attempts to soften the blow. "Not all that often," He amends. "And it's always about something really fucking _stupid_ , too. There's no way you'd ever say any of the things you do in my dreams. I know that much."

"What things?" Haruka distantly hears himself press, then, even though he could probably make an educated guess if he'd really wanted to (and there's a significant risk the repeated prodding will simply spell the end of their impromptu little _discussion_ , as well). He knows his actions in the past have left more than a couple of ugly scars on Rin's psyche. He doesn't need anyone to tell him that. Least of all Rin himself.

"It's usually just generic stuff about the team," Rin supplies surprisingly readily. And far more soberly than he'd sounded a moment before. "How I dragged you into everything without ever giving you a choice, y'know? Or how much you hate the world of competitive swimming." Barely a beat later, as if he isn't acutely aware of the power his words have over Haruka at all, he unflinchingly adds: "And _me_. Those kind of things."

"I'd _never_ — "

"I said I'm aware of that, didn't I?" Rin hastily interjects. "It's _fine_ , Haru. Don't sweat it, OK? Nightmares are hardly rational. They're made of utter bullshit. Everybody knows that."

Haruka doesn't think it's fine at all, though. "You're still holding something back, aren't you?"

Rin hesitates again.

For a much longer time.

And then: "My sexuality."

Caught completely off guard by that unexpected revelation, Haruka can only stare at the vague outlines of Rin's face in rapidly rising trepidation. For a long, shamefully drawn-out moment. This really isn't the kind of conversation he'd envisioned the two of them having when he'd asked Rin about his motivations earlier. At all. Or _ever_.

"I don't care about those kind of things," He hurries to (re-)assure Rin, on an audibly unsteady exhale, as soon as he feels able to. "It doesn't matter to me. You know _that_ , too," Except, after pausing to swallow the uncomfortable lump in his throat, he can't quite help himself from seeking a little assurance of his own. "Don't you...?"

"I do," Rin confirms gratifyingly quickly (if a little less animatedly than Haruka'd have liked). "I think I've always known that. _Rationally_."

Haruka closes his eyes in relief. "Good," He decides. And then promptly finds himself making a whole other decision all together. "I meant what I said, though," He insists. "It makes no difference to me. Things like sexuality. Or _gender_."

Rather predictably, an audibly winded Rin mulls Haruka's words over very carefully before settling on a reply. "I thought you weren't interested in that kind of stuff," He can eventually be heard mumbling into his pillow — after a much longer pause, at that — without even bothering to dull the accusation in his voice. "You've always turned everyone down. Like your refills."

Feeling inexplicably irritated all of a sudden, Haruka pointedly rolls over to face the window. "Relationships are too much trouble," He unhappily tells the gaudy lace at the bottom of the curtains. And the shadowed patterns they cast on the wall. "Friendships are already hard enough to sustain without needing to juggle them with university and a dozen 6K sessions a week. I don't think I'm cut out for anything more complicated than that, Rin."

It's Rin's turn to make a neutral little noise in the back of his throat, then. Apparently.

"Until retirement, you mean...?"

Haruka considers it. Nods in agreement. Then belatedly remembers Rin can't actually _see_ the gesture in the dark. "Yeah," He ends up grudgingly muttering. "I guess so."

"That could be a pretty long way off," Rin obstinately chooses to point out, then, as if he genuinely thinks Haruka could use the reminder. "Don't get me wrong, though. Our reasoning might not be same, exactly, but the results definitely are: I need to make sure I stay completely focused on achieving everything I set out to do, yeah...? I've made way too many sacrifices along the way to risk it all for a couple of _distractions_. No fucking way. No thanks."

Unsurprised by that particular declaration, Haruka merely hums in response. He's — unconsciously, at the very least — known that little detail about Rin ever since the moment they'd first laid eyes upon each other. In fact, Rin's very own brand of tunnel vision is a comfortingly familiar aspect of their friendship by now. Just like the unwavering confidence he has in Haruka's abilities (or Haruka's unspoken promise to preserve all of the closely guarded secrets he's being entrusted with tonight).

For a little while, Rin even allows a companionable silence to settle over their room.

It's _nice_.

Until the veritable whirlwind of a redhead abruptly sets about grabbing hold of the proverbial rug underneath Haruka's feet and giving it a vicious _tug_ , that is.

"Sex is a little different, I think," He begins, then, deceptively lightly (and with an uncharacteristic lack of self-consciousness that immediately makes the little hairs on Haruka's arms stand on end). "Don't you ever just want to blow off some steam with someone, Haru...?" There's yet another pause then. One that Haruka doesn't dare interrupt. Nor inspect too closely, for that matter. "I didn't even know I could talk to you about these kind of things until a couple of minutes ago, you know? It's probably gone straight to my head. Along with all that goddamn rakija. The very least you could do is humour me a little, OK?"

Feeling increasingly out of his depth, Haruka can only offer Rin a pathetic echo of his earlier words: "I guess so..."

For all intents and purposes, though, Rin's next words sound like a complete and utter non-sequitur. At first. "What about _tonight_?" He apparently wants to know, then, right out of the blue. "Purely hypothetically, I mean."

Haruka has no idea what on earth possesses him to respond so earnestly to Rin's blatant proposition.

But he _does_.

"I wouldn't be able to turn you down," He tells Rin in an embarrassingly small voice. "It never sticks."

"Hypothetically...?"

"Hypothetically."

And even though they end up unanimously deciding to stay in their own beds (until their unexpectedly peaceful slumber gets interrupted by the shrill _beep-beep-beep-beep-beep_ of Haruka's precious little alarm clock, at least), Haruka knows it's only a matter of time until the theoretical scenario they'd — completely accidentally, it seems — painted the outlines of becomes their brand new _reality_.

The only question, now, is this one: _when_ _will the rest of it catch up with them?_

 

* * *

 

_**Monday, July 13, 2009 (VRNJAČKA BANJA, SERBIA):** _

It's their first full day in Vrnjačka Banja — Serbia's largest and most popular spa town — and, in the wake of a particularly gruelling 6:15 AM session (and an equally debilitating breakfast in [Hotel Breza](http://www.hotelbreza.mod.gov.rs/en/#.WEMSQtRXrcw)'s noisy restaurant), the entire team has been ordered to _relax_.

For Haruka, this ordinarily means camping out in bed with a video game or two. Before getting some much needed studying done. And rewarding himself with a short phone call to Makoto. Quite predictably, however, Rin has very different plans for the rest of their morning.

Namely: _sightseeing_.

Of course.

It quickly turns out the quiet little town doesn't exactly have a whole lot to offer two up-and-coming athletes looking for a quick and easy way to relieve their boredom, though. There _is_ a brief moment of respite when they come across a wooden statue of [the town mascot](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vrnja%C4%8Dka_Banja#/media/File:Maskotas_of_Vrnjacka_Banja.jpg) (a weird little sparrow wearing a [šajkača](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%A0ajka%C4%8Da) and [opanci](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opanci)), and Rin is extremely adamant about crossing the padlock-covered [Most Ljubavi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Most_Ljubavi) at least twice _'for good luck'_ , but they soon find themselves returning to the hotel's [pool area](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9dMGo-irfo) for a handful of increasingly playful short-course races. Right underneath Hirai's watchful — and occasionally openly amused — gaze.

And when the two of them eventually get tired of throwing dubious glances up a the mouldy ceiling every other lap or so, they reluctantly agree to beat a tactical retreat up to their shared room on the 5th floor.

To try and get some more of their assigned reading done.

Maybe.

The [twin beds](http://www.euroturs.rs/wp-content/gallery/sr-vrnjackabanja-breza/hotel-breza-vrnjacka-banja-8.jpg) actually appear to have been made in their absence (and there's a fresh stack of towels at the foot of each one), but Rin barely gives Haruka a chance to properly make his way into the room and take stock of the rather unexpected changes. Instead, he's abruptly shoving Haruka up against the bathroom door and jerkily burying his nose into the junction of Haruka's neck and shoulder. On the left side. Very insistently. And long before Haruka's even had the time to begin toeing his shoes off, too.

And, then, Rin suddenly _ceases moving altogether_.

"Rin?" Haruka tries, very quietly, as he tentatively reaches out to splay a hand over the small of Rin's back (in an effort to ground _himself_ , if nothing else). "What are you doing?"

Rin visibly flinches in response to the sound of Haruka's voice, but he makes no move to back away. Or back _down_.

"Screw it," He emphatically tells the collar of Haruka's t-shirt, then, in an unusually rough tone of voice. "Hypothetically, or otherwise. I don't _care_ anymore. I'm so fucking sick of over-thinking this whole thing already, y'know? And it's only been _two days_."

Haruka impulsively cups the back of Rin's head with his free hand before attempting to speak again. Because he really doesn't want Rin to shrink in on himself any further. "What're you waiting for, then?" He half-demands, half-coaxes, as neutrally as possible. Then promptly gets distracted by the impossibly soft little strands of hair at the very nape of Rin's neck. "You already know I'm not going to turn you down, don't you...?"

Completely against Haruka's expectations, though, the improvised little reminder actually _works_.

Rin's confidence makes a spectacular come-back as good as immediately. He even determinedly shuffles closer, until the entire length of Haruka's back is pressed flat against the wooden door behind him, and then he's slowly dragging the tip of his nose upwards in search of the sharp jut at the underside of Haruka's jaw.

He's got Haruka's heartbeat positively racing in the blink of an eye.

And he's only just getting _started_ , isn't he...?

But when Rin inevitably slots their hips together — with a neat little roll of his pelvis (one that effortlessly draws twin gasps out of _both_ of them) — in a way that lets Haruka feel exactly how aroused he is, a wholly uninvited little thought suddenly makes itself at home at the back of Haruka's mind: Rin wouldn't be doing this if he knew the myriad of effects he's currently having on his teammate aren't born out of a physical desire alone.

Even so, Haruka doesn't have the strength to stop it all from happening. He simply allows it to continue. Just the way he had done back in Hamamatsu.

On a Sunday morning.

In late April.

Because there's no way around it anymore. He knows it, now. For certain.

What the insistent — and incredibly troublesome, at times — pull he feels whenever Rin is nearby really _means_. And why he's been feeling so breathless and downright light-headed around Rin lately. And the irrefutable reason he's letting himself walk into this with his eyes wide open. Even though he should probably be squeezing them tightly shut right around now.

He _knows_.

And so he reluctantly swallows all of his knee-jerk protests, bites his tongue, and allows Rin to boldly rut against him. The exact same way he'd allowed Rin to unwittingly seek pleasure in front of him a couple of weeks before. With _the exact same results_ , too.

The tension rises.

A steady stream of tiny little whimpers and grunts begins to escape Rin (by which Haruka is, once again, not being left entirely unaffected).

And then — just as Haruka is finally beginning to build up the necessary nerve to reciprocate — everything goes very _quiet_.

"Rin...?"

Rin detaches himself from the side of Haruka's neck, almost unbearably slowly, to look up at Haruka with an unsettlingly vulnerable gaze. His lips are very close. Lightly parted. And practically begging to be kissed. Right away. "How far do you want this to go?" He suddenly wants to know, then, in a tone of voice Haruka's never even heard him use before. "I didn't bring anything with me. Did _you_...?"

Haruka blinks to clear the fog in his head. " _Condoms_?"

Rin nods his head. Even more hesitantly.

Haruka blinks again. "No," He blurts out. "I've never needed them before."

And just like _that_ , Rin's previously open expression abruptly morphs into something alien and unreadable. "For someone who doesn't even carry anything on him, Haru," He determines. "You sure seem happy enough to let me call all of the shots. What's up with that?"

Haruka's hackles rise. Immediately. And all of their own accord, too. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rin narrows his eyes. "Nothing," He lies. Quite blatantly so. "Don't take it the wrong way, OK? It's actually kind of _flattering_. Getting to see you act like this, I mean. You're not even giving me lip yet."

Heat rises to Haruka's cheeks at roughly the same time his gaze instinctively drops to Rin's mouth.

"Can I try _that_?" He distantly hears himself ask, then, in favour of acknowledging his embarrassment. It hardly matters that he's never done these kind of things before, does it...? Rin is full of shit. He always has been. And he likely always will be. They _both_ know that, by now. "Kissing you."

Rin's frown instantly softens, even as he steps out of Haruka's loose embrace to make his way further into the slightly dilapidated room. "Your mind's kind of in the gutter right now, isn't it...?" He teases, unexpectedly lightly, and just as startlingly beckons Haruka towards the bed on on his left side. The dingy little thing he'd slept in the night before, that is. Right underneath a suspiciously large stain on the ceiling. "At least get on there first, would you? And get rid off your shoes while you're at it."

Haruka obliges him.

A moment later, he's rewarded for his cooperation with an armful of Rin's oddly addictive body heat. And an unexpected bonus in the form of Rin's fond voice: "There's really no need for you to look _so serious_ , Haru. You're going to make me nervous. If you keep that up."

Haruka scrunches up his brows in mock irritation, but allows Rin to manhandle him into a slightly more comfortable position without complaint: side by side on the ramshackle little bed, with the lone pillow propping up both of their heads and the tips of their noses barely a centimetre apart. "I don't like it when you run up ahead without me," He grudgingly admits when they've both settled down. "It feels _wrong_."

Rin snorts. "You're actually a pretty competitive guy underneath all that heavy-duty exterior of yours, aren't you?" He ascertains. "Even outside of the pool."

Haruka would very much like to look away (in silent protest), but is effectively stopped in his tracks by the pad of Rin's thumb making contact with his bottom lip.

It's just a light touch at first.

Gentle.

Introductory.

And undeniably tender, as well.

But then Rin _shifts a little closer_ — all over again, come to think of it — and suddenly the blunt end of his fingernail is digging into Haruka's lip and purposefully dragging it down to expose the very tips of Haruka's mandibular teeth. "Don't tell me you're _jealous_ ," He breathes, then, right into Haruka's open mouth. "I'd have to bring up all of those goddamn records you keep breaking left and right, in that case. And nothing kills a guy's mood faster than the thought of Hirai-sensei setting a bunch of reporters on his ass. Simply because _a certain idiot_ decided to disappear into thin air. Again."

It's Haruka's turn to lie, then. "What's there to be jealous of?" He mutters, somewhat awkwardly, around Rin's wandering thumb. And steadfastly refuses to acknowledge Rin's tired complaint ( _or_ the blatant hints of Rin's apparently considerable libido), while he's at it. "I'll catch up soon enough."

Rin lets out another amused little noise. "Not without a single condom on you, you won't," He fires back without missing a beat. "And isn't that my line, anyway...? I've got my sights set on that tantalizing 48.37 of yours, Nanase. Now _that_ 's what I'd call an instant turn-on." And then he promptly proves his point by swallowing Haruka's next retort up — something along the lines of, _'You know as well as I do that anything I set during a relay doesn't count,_ _Rin. FINA requires a static start for that...'_ , or possibly even, _'Are you ever going to stop calling me that? Or does that get you in the mood, too?'_ — with an expert little nip to Haruka's upper lip.

It's a quick little thing.

Barely enough for Haruka to really get a feel for it, to be honest.

Even so, he already knows he wants _more_.

And Rin quickly turns out to be very amenable to that particular course of action, too. He generously allows Haruka to roll him over onto his back, humming lightly in encouragement, and even goes as far as to bury one of his hands in Haruka's hair in order to help guide their foreheads together. "Knock yourself out," He invites, quite unnecessarily so, while he indulgently runs a couple of the fingers of his free hand up and down the shell of Haruka's right ear. The feather-soft touch — and the sound of Rin's voice, gone all silky and smooth with blatant _interest_ , as well — goes straight to Haruka's groin. "No holds barred. And no strings attached, either."

Unsurprisingly, then, that is exactly what Haruka ends up doing.

He trades soft, maddeningly chaste little kisses with Rin until it no longer feels strange or callow to do so. And when he's accomplished _that_ seemingly impossible feat, he experimentally licks at the corner of Rin's smiling mouth. Until Rin's lips — and his _legs_ , too — part in an entirely different kind of invitation.

Rin eagerly takes over for him, at that point, and wastes no further time in showing Haruka all of the intriguing ways and places he likes to be kissed. "Figures you'd be a natural at this, too," He praises, a little tongue-in-cheek, just as Haruka decides he likes having Rin playfully tug at his bottom lip best (even more than having Rin's tongue lightly touch his own in between their open mouths). "Isn't there anything _else_ you'd like to try, though...?"

There _is_.

There's a whole slew of things he'd like to do to Rin right now, truth be told.

Feeling unusually adventurous, Haruka slowly draws away in order to sit back on his haunches. "Is this OK?" He asks, as he pointedly hooks the very tips of his fingers underneath the gathered edge of Rin's sweatpants. "I really want to touch you."

Rin swallows.

Opens his mouth to reply.

And then, just as Haruka is about to make another harebrained admission or two, there's a series of rapid knocks on the door.

"Nanase-kun...?" [Sononaka's](https://www.swimrankings.net/index.php?page=athleteDetail&athleteId=4063651&athletePage=PBEST) raised voice can faintly be heard from the hallway, then, much to their joint alarm. "Are you in there? Hirai-sensei sent me to find you. There's something he'd like to discuss with you and [Takurou](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takuro_Fujii) before lunch."

Haruka scrambles off of the bed — and a terribly pale-faced Rin — faster than he's probably ever done before. In his entire lifetime. "S-Sononaka-senpai," He greets, barely a split-second later, as the door swings open with an almost comically loud creak. "Rin's just about to drift off, I think. Do you mind telling me about the rest in the hallway?"

 

* * *

_**Sunday, July 18, 2009 (ROME, ITALY):** _

It's 8:49 PM.

They're backstage.

Haruka's sketchbook has been confiscated — very reluctantly, mind you — by an unusually animated Ryousuke. In its place, he's been given a wooden sign that says **GIAPPONE** in black lettering. To keep an eye on. Perhaps.

There's only nine of them here, all clad in the very same jerseys, tonight: Hirai, [Koga](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Junya_Koga), [Matsuda](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Takeshi_Matsuda), Takurou, [Ranmaru](https://swimswam.com/tag/ranmaru-harada/), Ryousuke, [Ryou](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryo_Tateishi) (who'll be taking over Hiromasa's breaststroke leg in the Medley Relay races on August 2nd), Rin, and Haruka, himself.

The atmosphere between Takurou — or _Fuji-senpai_ , as he'd recently taken to insisting on being called — and Haruka is still a little touch-and-go right now, though. Especially in the wake of the 4x100m Freestyle preliminaries in Serbia, in which Takurou'd accidentally gotten their four-headed team disqualified from the final with a false start. And it really doesn't help that, less than a week ago, Hirai had plainly offered _Haruka_ a chance to take over Takurou's set position in both of the upcoming [4x100m Freestyle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swimming_at_the_2009_World_Aquatics_Championships_%E2%80%93_Men%27s_4_%C3%97_100_metre_freestyle_relay) races here in Rome, either. The often coveted _'first leg'_ , to be exact. Because hitting the water first is the only way for individual swimmers to get a chance at setting officially recognised records during relays.

In hindsight, Hirai must have known presenting Haruka with such an offer would result in a swift rejection. Haruka's swimming style simply doesn't suit any other role besides his already appointed one, after all.

He's the anchor.

The _chaser_.

The one who doesn't even care about breaking — or setting — records. Whose only task is to bring victory home. Joint victory.

No, Hirai is definitely aware of _that_.

And yet. He'd still given Haruka _a choice_ , a rare chance at bypassing the only obstacle currently standing between Haruka and a brand new Japanese NR, and an oddly unassuming set of words that will probably stick with Haruka throughout the rest of his career: _"Medals shine for a limited amount of time, Nanase. They only ever last until the next cycle of competitions comes around. Records are different. If you set them right, their glow will keep you warm for over a decade."_

Warmth.

Haruka is fairly certain he knows the kind of heat Hirai had been talking about — quite intimately, even — by now.

It's right _here_.

In Takurou's fixed frown. In the openly assessing stares of the entire Ghanaian delegation. In the sweaty palm of Rin's hand (where it's pressed nearly impossibly tightly up against Haruka's own). In the setting Italian sun. And deep within Haruka's chest, threatening to spread like wildfire the very second he loses focus and fails to properly stomp it back down again, when a disembodied voice begins counting down across the speakers:

 ** _Tre_**...

 ** _Due_**...

**_Uno!_ **

Then — as if he'd been holding himself back all night and simply cannot stand to wait any longer — Rin is suddenly slinging his free arm around Haruka's shoulders _and encouraging everyone else to do the same_. The resulting scuffle leaves Haruka feeling a little light-headed. And even _hotter_.

A whole bunch of pictures are taken, too.

Meanwhile, on one of the large screens above their heads, Claudio Baglioni sings [a hymn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1zk5f9CrGw) that as good as instantly brings tears to Rin's eyes.

"You're so _embarrassing_ ," Haruka quietly teases him, as soon as he's successfully managed to disentangle himself from the worst of the commotion, and doesn't give himself time to feel self-conscious about initiating another hug himself. One that's just for the two of them. "Do you even understand any of the lyrics?"

Rin laughs. Clings to Haruka a little harder. And buries his nose in the exposed skin above Haruka's collar (in a way that reminds Haruka uncomfortably of his erratic behaviour back at Hotel Breza). "Of course not," He admits. "Just a couple of words. At most."

"Such as?"

Rin draws back, then, to bestow Haruka with one of the most beautiful smiles he's ever been given. By _anyone_. "The title," He half-brags, half-concedes, in an contradictorily timid tone of voice. " _'One World'_ , maybe...? Universo. Infinito. _Acqua_."

Despite himself (and the niggling desire to continue gently mocking Rin just a little longer), Haruka can't help but give in to a soft smile of his own. " _Acqua_ ," He mimics. Far more steadily than he's currently feeling. And with his heart lodged firmly in his throat. "I like it."

Rin laughs again. Eyes closed. And head thrown back.

He looks _breathtaking_.

For the next couple of minutes, Haruka's treacherous mind strays to [the padlock-riddled bridge](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ponte_Milvio) they'd crossed on their way over here. Just the two of them. As well as the unspoken promise in Rin's heated gaze when they'd dropped their luggage off at the [Hilton Garden Inn](http://hiltongardeninn3.hilton.com/en/hotels/italy/hilton-garden-inn-rome-claridge-ROMRCGI/accommodations/rooms.html) earlier that day. And its effects on Haruka's already frayed nerves.

But then he inevitably finds himself being nudged forward by Ryousuke in order to prepare for the [Walk Of Nations](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5FxinX6KKDI&t=411s), during which the three of them — and an endearingly embarrassed Ryou (who keeps attempting to sneak furtive glances at their terribly amused looking coach) — end up taking the stage with tightly clasped hands and nearly identical smiles on their faces.

And then there's only the oppressive heat of the spotlights, the soothing warmth of Rin's hand, and the all-consuming fire wrecking havoc within Haruka's chest.

 

* * *

 

_**Wednesday, July 29, 2009 (ROME, ITALY):** _

Haruka makes it to the [semi-final](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swimming_at_the_2009_World_Aquatics_Championships_%E2%80%93_Men%27s_100_metre_freestyle) of the 100m Freestyle by the skin of his teeth.

48.43.

It's more than enough to beat the 48.49 he'd set at [JAPAN OPEN](http://swim.seiko.co.jp/en/2009/S70704/eng_index.htm) back in May by a respectable 6/100, though, and it would've even earned him another Japanese NR, as well, if Rin — who appears to be incapable of doing anything other than leaning all of his weight on the rope in between lanes #6 and #7, at the moment — hadn't just thrown down an incredible _48.32_.

Like a gauntlet.

In his own lane, all the way at the the other end of the pool, Haruka isn't faring all that much better. He's struggling to catch his breath, to begin with, along with Rin's endearingly wide eyes. " _Rin_ ," He hears himself call out, then, uncharacteristically loudly. And just as impulsively, too. Right over the row off swim cap-covered heads steadily bobbing up and down in the four lanes between them. "You'd better not be planning on keeping it!"

Rin's resulting smile is just as blinding as the unforgiving glare of the Italian sun. If not even more so. "Don't you worry your pretty little head over that, Haru!" He shouts back. "I'm just borrowing it for a couple of hours! The 200m IM's probably going to throw a bit of a wrench in it for me, y'know?"

Haruka frowns.

Wades a little closer.

And yells: "You're still planning on putting your foot down about that? Hirai's not going to like that at all!"

Rin doesn't bother with a verbal reply. He lets himself get ushered out of the pool, instead, and immediately bounds over to offer Haruka a hand of his own. _'I know I'm not Makoto,'_ His eyes seem to say surprisingly clearly, just then, as he spreads his fingers wide in invitation. _'But I think I'd like it if you let me borrow this from you, too. Just for a little while, OK?'_

Making a conscious effort to smooth out his furrowed brows, Haruka reluctantly accepts Rin's deceptively simple gesture. "We'll be in adjacent lanes next time," He predicts, a little more subdued than before, around the sudden lump in his throat. With his feet placed firmly upon the sun-warmed pool deck. "Save your energy for that instead. Idiot."

As expected, Rin's smile doesn't fade. The centre of his palm is very warm, too. Nearly scorchingly so, in fact. To the point where it's kind of beginning to feel like the way it had done during the opening ceremony (and when he'd firmly wrapped his fingers around the base of Haruka's even firmer erection, a little later, as well). Almost ten nights ago. By now. "I'll think about it," He amicably allows. Without letting go of Haruka's hand. And in a tone of voice that suggests he knows _exactly_ what's going on inside of Haruka's head right now. " _Asshole_."

"I'd better not catch the two of you speaking to each other that way ever again!" Hirai's positively booming voice suddenly cuts in. From the sidelines. Behind the haphazardly cordoned-off area. And a row of tables. "Whatever will the public say when they discover the driving force behind Japan's very own _'rising sprinting hotbed in its extreme infancy'_ regularly cusses each other out at the poolside? I'd never hear the end of it!"

"Aren't you ever going to quit bringing that article up, Hirai-sensei?" Rin bemoans, faux-dramatically, as he slowly saunters over to accept one of Hirai's proffered towels. Bodily dragging Haruka along by the hand, as a result. "I'm pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be a compliment, you know..."

Hirai makes an equally artificial little noise in the back of his throat. "Certainly," He reckons, as he distractedly steps aside to let a young Timekeeper pass him by, with an unmistakably fond expression on his face. For Rin. And possibly even one for Haruka, as well. "I'll get around to it as soon as my two most obstinate charges no longer require constant _babysitting_ , Matsuoka."

Refusing to play along, Haruka gingerly extracts his hand from Rin's tight grip.

In favour of making his way over to [the warm-up/cool-down pool](https://salamboblog.com/2011/04/04/romes-best-swimming-pool/).

All by himself.

 

* * *

 

_**Sunday, August 2, 2009 (ROME, ITALY):** _

It's all fun and games until Rin is suddenly being shoved right back into the pool by an infectiously ecstatic Ryou. The embarrassing idiot lands smack on his belly — with an enormous splash and a veritable explosion of bubbles — and comes up spluttering a split-second later.

He's _crying_.

Again.

Right in front of a wholly spellbound Haruka.

Is it any wonder, then, that as soon as Rin's wildly gesticulating arms encircle his shoulders — like they so often seem to be doing these days, to be honest — Haruka feels his entire world tilt dangerously to the left? Like he's been hit by a great tidal wave. Or an _earthquake_.

No.

Probably not.

In the end, all he can manage — in the face of all that pure, unadulterated _joy_ — is to simply bury his face in the crook of Rin's neck. With a hoarsely whispered confession. Before proceeding to hold on for dear life.

"It's not _enough_ , Rin..."

And even though it's getting increasingly difficult to ignore all of the various ways the two of them aren't on the same page at all (or even in the same _book_ ), Haruka foolishly accepts Rin's own spontaneous admission without protest: "It looks like you finally managed to catch up with me, doesn't it? Hearing you say those words is worth so much more to me than any medal, Haru. _Thank you_."

Because Haruka might be a fool, but he certainly isn't capable of selfishly asking Rin for even more than _that_.

 

* * *

 

_**Saturday, August 15, 2009 (IWATOBI, JAPAN):** _

Despite the inescapable fact that Haruka and Rin have barely managed to attend any of their courses — at least _physically_ , that is — since the very start of July, they're both equally determined to make the most of their well-deserved summer break.

Back _home_.

In the blissfully serene and reposeful little town of Iwatobi. Which just so happens to be situated right on the edge of the least populous prefecture in the entire country.

For Haruka, this would ordinarily mean spending the majority of his free time out in the garden with Makoto (or taking naps on the raised wooden porch at the front of the house). In between trips to the beach. And daily visits to Sasabe's Iwatobi S.C.R. True to form, however, Rin has very different plans for their month-long holiday.

Such as: regularly commandeering Haruka's kitchen and/or bathroom, Skype-calling Lori and Russell from his seemingly permanent perch at the foot of Haruka's bed, constantly distracting Haruka with his equally constant proximity, just as rudely inviting all of their mutual friends over to hang out in Haruka's sitting room after practice (including _Yamazaki_ , of all people), and then — almost unnervingly impudently — insisting on making it all up to Haruka in increasingly suggestive little ways. In _private_ , of course.

They've even got a box of condoms, now.

Durex.

From a brightly lit drugstore in Rome.

A twelve-pack, to be precise. Of which there'd only been seven left by the time they'd inevitably been forced to pack up their bags, say goodbye to their ridiculously luxurious set of beds at the Hilton Garden Inn, and make their way back to Japan again. And straight towards _Haruka's room_ , apparently, where Rin had immediately — and in a wholly unsolicited manner, at that — proceeded to make himself right at home. Smack in the face of Gou's terribly noisy disappointment (and Nagisa's even louder approval), Makoto's obvious befuddlement, and Haruka's own steadily rising apprehension.

Because it's simply _impossible_ for Haruka to forget, now, exactly what Rin looks like on his knees. Or sprawled out across a hastily spread towel, with his hips propped up by a bunched up pillow, and his erection steadily leaking pre-cum into the little dip of his belly button as he lets Haruka slide in and out of the addictive heat of his body without a care in the world.

Cheeks flushed.

Toes curled.

And pupils dilated with arousal. As well as undisguised _want_.

As a result, it's gradually becoming harder and harder for Haruka to keep squashing down his own — far less _sexually tinted_ , as they may be — desires. The urge to allow his eyes to settle on the enticing little strip of skin peeking out from the front of the auspicious [yukata](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yukata) Rin is wearing for [Obon](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bon_Festival) tonight, for example, is nearly overwhelming right now. And it's taking just about everything he has to keep himself from lightly running the tips of his fingers along the inside of Rin's nearest wrist, as well.

 _Here_.

Right out in the open. As they stand side-by-side, on Iwatobi's comfortingly familiar little stretch of beach, to admire the fireworks currently lighting up the sky above their heads. With all of their friends.

And that's not nearly all Haruka wants, either. There's more. A lot more.

Because he'd _also_ like to be able to catch Makoto's openly curious gaze and offer him a reassuring smile in return (rather than the frustrated little grimace he ends up needing to content himself with, instead). To remind himself that, no matter what, Makoto will _always_ have his back. And to prove to himself that _this_ — the dangerous game he's been playing with Rin, these last couple of weeks, without even pausing to come up for air — isn't something powerful enough to stand between them: Makoto and Haruka. Best friends. Since kindergarten.

Which is probably why, when Makoto politely withdraws himself from the group — in order to make his way up the stone steps Haruka'd climbed all by himself two years prior — with a whole string of extremely transparent little justifications, Haruka doesn't even bother to come up with an excuse of his own. Nor does he hesitate to follow Makoto all the way up there. Instantly. And without a single backwards glance.

"Do you want to talk about it, then?" Makoto asks him, reliable as clockwork, as soon as they reach the outlook post at the very top of the cliff. "Although _this_ might not be the best place for us to do that, I guess..."

This time, though, Haruka does manage a reassuring smile. "It's fine," He replies. Easily. And without any reservations. "I like it up here."

Clearly mollified — for the moment, anyway — Makoto neatly folds his arms and rests them on the iron railing. "I've missed it, too," He accurately surmises. As he gazes out at the seemingly endless ocean in front of them (and the whole fleet of little lanterns bobbing fearlessly atop its waves). "There's nothing quite like home, is there...?" There's a short pause then. One for Haruka's benefit, most likely. "I didn't realise it until I saw my parents' house again, though. Don't you think that's a little _weird_ , Haru...? I can't decide if I should feel bad about it or not."

Haruka thoughtfully eyes Makoto's profile before responding. "You're a lot stronger than you think, Makoto," He eventually offers. "And just as _meddlesome_ , too."

A visibly embarrassed Makoto immediately bumps their shoulders together.

In protest.

Or gratitude.

It's a little hard to tell.

" _So_...?" He carefully prods, then, when it has apparently become very clear to him that Haruka isn't going to break the subject on his own. Not without a little extra coaxing, at least. "You're right about that part, at least. I didn't bring you all the way up here just to talk about myself, Haru."

Haruka's easy smile sours a little. "I wouldn't be able to tell you much about it even if I'd wanted to," He hedgingly divulges. Even though he knows he shouldn't even be _thinking_ of saying anything to Makoto about this at all. "I promised Rin."

Makoto turns to face him, then, with startlingly understanding eyes. "Say no more," He bids. Very seriously. And without even a single trace of his earlier uncertainty. "Your secret is safe with me. And Rin's is, too."

Haruka swallows.

Nods.

And hurriedly averts his gaze.

 

* * *

 

_**Sunday, August 16, 2009 (IWATOBI, JAPAN):** _

Reality firmly catches up to Haruka at **1:17 AM**. To a backdrop of the steady hum of the old — and rather noisy, at that — ceiling fan.

"Did you tell Makoto?" Rin asks him, crouched low at the foot of the bed, in a deceptively light tone of voice. One that doesn't match the open suspicion in his narrowed eyes. Or the definite lack of an extra futon on the floor. At all. "When you disappeared all of a sudden. After the fireworks."

Refusing to be cowed by the rising tension in the air, Haruka stubbornly keeps his hands exactly where they are. On top of Rin's impossibly smooth thighs. And barely hidden by the dark [plover-themed](http://www.immortalgeisha.com/wiki/index.php?title=Chidori) fabric of Rin's yukata, to boot. "About what...?"

Rin grudgingly hikes the hemline up a little further (until the backs of Haruka's hands aren't covered by swathes of fabric anymore). "You can shove that coy attitude of yours right up your fucking ass, Haru," He hisses — in a perfectly balanced mix of _annoyance_ and _impatience —_ while Haruka resolutely slides his palms further upwards. Towards his ultimate goal. "It doesn't suit you at all."

Unimpressed, Haruka merely digs his thumbs into the hard muscle at the juncture of Rin's hips and groin in response. Just long enough to make a point, mind you. "Why don't you do that for me?" He suggests, then, entirely on a whim. "You certainly seem to enjoy having things shoved up _yours_. What if I've been missing out this whole time?"

Clearly too startled to process the obvious offence in Haruka's words (or continue with his previous line of questioning), Rin instantly levels him an unexpectedly heated stare. "You'd actually let me do that to you? _Seriously_...?"

Haruka — just as quickly — drops his gaze to the [oddly traditional weave](http://www.immortalgeisha.com/wiki/index.php?title=Hakata_Ori) of Rin's maroon-coloured [kaku-obi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obi_%28sash%29#Men.27s_obi_types). "I don't see why not," He tells the hypnotising patterns there. As neutrally as he can manage. "I'll let you know if I don't like it."

Already well on his way to full recovery, apparently, Rin stubbornly tilts Haruka's face back up with a crooked index finger. "This isn't just some kind of harebrained plot to distract me, is it?"

"I didn't tell Makoto _anything_ ," Haruka reluctantly concedes. "He'd already figured it all out on his own, Rin."

To his credit, Rin simply draws in a sharp breath. "Pass me the lube, would you?" He half-orders, half-requests. "The new one. And prop your hips up with one of the pillows, while you're at it."

Haruka knows an ultimatum _—_ or Rin's particular brand of them, anyway _—_ when he hears one. And yet. He still can't seem to keep himself from asking: "Don't you want to put on a condom, too?"

And then there's that _look_ again. The disconcertingly unreadable one Rin's been throwing him increasingly often lately. "Not tonight," He curtly informs Haruka. Perhaps a little _coldly_ , even, in spite of the cloying summer heat. "I'm not actually that big of a jerk, Haru."

Feeling inexplicably jittery all of a sudden, Haruka decides it's best to simply let it go. "Here," He offers, instead, and pointedly hands over the small bottle of water-based lubricant Rin'd made him buy at the convenience store near the station earlier. On their way back home from the festival. To replace the silicone-based one they've nearly run out of. " _'Knock yourself out'_."

The corners of Rin's lips twitch gratifyingly, at that. At least. "No holds barred...?"

Despite all of his lingering misgivings, Haruka dutifully sets about making himself as comfortable as possible. As per Rin's specifications. "And _'no strings attached'_ , either," He unceremoniously finishes, when he's done, and purposefully allows his legs to fall open. In a blatant request for Rin to get a move on. "No matter what Makoto thinks we're doing."

As expected, though, Rin doesn't acknowledge that little titbit of information. Instead, he wordlessly removes Haruka's underwear. And shifts a little closer. "Put your legs wherever you like them best," He quietly instructs, then, in a strangely croaky tone of voice. "I'm not moving an inch until you're completely comfortable. There's no need to rush this, y'know? Sononaka-senpai's not going to barge in here. This time."

"I'm not a _girl_ ," Haruka protests. "If I had breasts instead of pecs, you'd be as limp as a rag."

But Rin simply ignores _that_ , too.

"Have you ever tried anything remotely like this before, by the way?"

Knowing when to cut his losses, Haruka gingerly rests his ankles on either side of Rin's neck. "Just a couple of times," He finds himself admitting surprisingly readily (in the face of Rin's enviable composure), then, without needing to be prompted a second time. And he isn't even feeling nervous anymore, either. "In the bath."

Nodding in acknowledgement, Rin lightly runs a lone finger down the back of Haruka's right thigh. Starting from the inside of his knee. All the way down to the swell of his ass. "How did that go?" He wants to know. "Good? Or _bad_...?"

"I don't know," Haruka tells him. Honestly. And without embarrassment. "I've never tried anything more than a fingertip. I keep forgetting to bring the lube into the bathroom with me."

As if determined to match _—_ or reward, even _—_ each of Haruka's admissions, stroke for stroke, Rin softly presses an appreciative kiss down on the inside of Haruka's shin. The _left_ one. "I guess we'll just have to find out together, then."

And so they do.

Rin takes his time. He makes sure Haruka's cock is rock hard first, then painstakingly massages Haruka's perineum (until he's got Haruka practically squirming for something he never even knew he'd ever find himself wanting to experience before), and gives the lubricant plenty of time to adapt to the temperature of his fingers before finally allowing them to stray a little further down. And then _inside_.

Very slowly.

One by one.

Until Haruka can easily take three of them in: Rin's index, middle, and ring finger. All at once.

And it's surprisingly OK.

It's really, really, really OK.

But it isn't even nearly _enough_.

" _Rin_."

"All right," Rin suddenly decides, then, as if he can actually read Haruka's mind. Loud and clear. "Just _try_ not to kick me in the face if it turns out not to be to your thing, OK...?"

Haruka nods. And then Rin curls the very tips of his fingers upwards, just a tiny little bit at first, and immediately draws a rare — and utterly involuntary _—_ curse from Haruka's lips. Because it feels _good_. Almost a little _too_ good, in fact.

Haruka's hips are suddenly refusing to stay put, to begin with, and his fingers are just as treacherously grabbing fistfuls of the sleeves of Rin's yukata. And even his voice is beginning to revolt, too. " _R-Rin_..." He distantly hears himself repeat, right over the unwelcome lump that seems to be dead-set on making itself at home at the back of his throat, in an absolutely mortifying manner. "I can't keep still _—_ "

Clearly thrown by the unexpectedly intense reaction, Rin hurriedly eases up on the pressure. "Too much?" He guesses, with a sympathetic wince, and promptly nuzzles Haruka's left leg in an unspoken apology (all the while giving the head of Haruka's cock a handful of perfectly timed little twists of his wrist with his free hand). "I'm not actually hurting you, am I?"

What comes out of Haruka's mouth next, though, definitely surprises them _both_.

"That's not it," He half-grunts, half-gasps, in a way that doesn't sound anything like his usual self. At all. "I just don't want to get saddled with any dry cleaning bills. For your fancy yukata. That's all."

Rin's brows furrow. Adorably. Until the hidden meaning of Haruka's words finally sinks in. "You're _that_ sensitive?" He marvels. Very openly. And a little breathlessly, too. "Fucking hell, Haru. You really have been missing out, haven't you...? That's _insane_."

Haruka's still trying to catch his bearings — and his own breath, as well — but he does eventually manage an admirably steady roll of his eyes. In his own opinion, anyway. "It's not like I can help it," He grouchily points out. "It's probably because of all that redundant foreplay of yours, anyway."

Undeterred, Rin merely scoots a couple of centimetres closer. "They make these things machine-washable these days," He brazenly assures Haruka, then, with a sharply contrasting kiss. Soft. Timid. And a little off-centre, too. "But since you're being so very _considerate,_ " He pauses, there, to press another kiss down on the perfectly round little 'O' of Haruka's open mouth. "How d'you feel about shooting your load down the back of my throat instead?"

Just like that, Haruka abruptly realises he's being thoroughly _ruined_.

By Rin.

For life.

No one else is ever going to be able to set his heartbeat racing as efficiently — and as infuriatingly _unknowingly_ — as Rin so easily does, after all. _Ever_. And what's even worse, really, is that Haruka doesn't even care.

Because it's _Rin_.

Whose striking red eyes have him shakily rolling one of their last condoms down over himself within seconds. Whose warm lips have him just as unsteadily whispering an endless stream of encouragements — and the occasional _endearment_ , as well — a moment later (despite his very best efforts to keep it all in). And whose clever fingers indulgently keep him teetering precariously on the brink of orgasm for what feels like _an age_. All without a single complaint. Or a care in the world.

 _Rin_.

Who hadn't even bothered telling Haruka to buy another twelve-pack earlier tonight.

 _Rin_.

Who always seems to be touching Haruka like he actually _means_ _it_.

_Rin_

Who's incredibly liable to put an end to all of this the very second he catches wind of the truth: that Haruka feels the exact same way about Rin as Rin does about him.

 ** _Rin_**.

"R-Rin," Haruka inevitably ends up blurting out once more, hands buried deep in Rin's hair (instead of Rin's yukata), just as hoarsely as before. "You've got to be the biggest idiot I've ever met."

Rin's eyes flash dangerously — and his nostrils flare in an unmistakable deterrent, as well — in response to the ill-timed ribbing, but Haruka's own hastily grunted warning seems to go a long way to soothe the brunt of his ire. In the end, he simply lets Haruka's cock slip free from in between his lips (with a needlessly loud little _'pop!'_ ), half-heartedly wipes his chin dry with the back of his hand, and defiantly recommences jerking Haruka off with his free hand.

Right on top of his boldly proffered tongue. And with a vengeance, too.

And even though the thin layer of latex separating Haruka's feverishly hot glans from the roof of Rin's mouth damages the illusion just a little bit, Haruka soon loses the battle with a heartfelt moan. Just a split-second before Rin's tireless efforts send him flying right over the edge. With a particularly well-placed nudge to Haruka's prostate. Or two.

When it hits, it hits Haruka _hard_.

And very, very, very fast.

The resulting surge of pleasure isn't even confined to just Haruka's cock, either. He can feel it practically _everywhere_. Like some kind of shock-wave. Or a magnetic pulse. Especially in his abdomen (and where he's still tightly clenching Rin's fingers, as well).

"That's — "

" — all thanks to this enormous idiot's _'redundant foreplay'_?" Rin immodestly finishes for him, with a playful little pinch to Haruka's ass, after carefully extracting his fingers. "What was _that_ all about, anyway? Your pillow talk could sure use a bit of work, Haru."

"I'll keep that in mind," Haruka grudgingly offers, even though he's not feeling remorseful at all, and mindfully sets about untangling his own fingers from Rin's hair. "And I'll make it up to you, too. Just as soon as I can move again."

"Yeah...?"

" _Yeah_."

 

* * *

 

_**Saturday, November 28, 2009 (FOSHAN, CHINA):** _

It's **8:36 PM** , and Haruka has just finished crashing through the [8th Asian Swimming Championships](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2009_Asian_Swimming_Championships) in Foshan with all the grace of a newborn fawn. According to a rather stunned-looking — and unmistakably _troubled_ , as well — Hirai, anyway.

He came in first in _all_ of the events he'd been scheduled to swim. Namely the 50m, 100m, 200m and 400m Freestyle. And, as per his tentative agreement with [JASF](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japan_Swimming_Federation), he'd left the Freestyle and Medley Relays up to the youngest members of **Team Japan** : Takashi, [Kousuke](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kosuke_Hagino) (the boisterous fifteen-year-old with whom Haruka has been sharing a room at the [New World](http://shunde.newworldhotels.com/en/rooms-suites/guestroom/) for the past couple of nights), [Shinri](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shinri_Shioura) (the equally high-spirited newcomer who'd taken over one of Haruka's anchor spots _and_ Rin's 3rd leg of the 4x100m Freestyle), Junpei, Nobuhiro, Ryuuta and Yuuta.

Rin isn't here.

This suits Haruka just _fine_ , to be honest.

His hair's still a little damp, though, and the needlessly fancy necktie he'd been tricked into donning for the occasion — by one of [Mizuno](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mizuno_Corporation)'s absolutely ecstatic representatives, of all people — is rapidly beginning to feel like an actual _noose_. To top things off, the cellphone he'd unthinkingly slipped into a pocket of his trousers before hurrying down to the hotel's Chinese-style restaurant has yet to stop its incessant vibrating.

Even so, Haruka can't quite bring himself to leave the table just yet.

Because:

" _See_...?" Kousuke's infectiously cheerful voice rings out over their empty dinner plates and partially finished drinks (and the impeccably white tablecloth underneath them all, as well, of course), as he proudly brandishes the screen of his brand new [Eee PC](https://www.cnet.com/pictures/asus-eee-pc-family-tree-2009-2010-edition-photos/) in front of him. The burly teenager is practically preening underneath all of the attention his teammates are currently bestowing him — and, occasionally, the gift he'd apparently been given by his parents as an incentive to stay in touch during the busy competition schedule in China — with tonight, in a way that's kind of starting to remind Haruka of a particularly spirited _Hazuki Nagisa_. "Rin-senpai even put aside his books long enough to congratulate me on Twitter! If _that_ doesn't prove we're on a first name basis, I don't know what —"

"That doesn't prove _anything_ ," A visibly exasperated Takashi loudly cuts in. Rather uncomfortably close to Haruka's left ear, at that. "I'm not buying it. Not until I see you call him that to his face, Hagino."

"It's _'Kousuke'_ ," Kousuke instantly protests (just as heatedly), before abruptly swivelling his head around to fix Haruka with an unsurprisingly effective _pout_. From his seat on Haruka's right side, that is. "You've _got_ to help me out here, Nanase-senpai! I've been a fantastic roomie to you, haven't I? I totally followed all of Rin-senpai's pointers. And I didn't hog the bathtub even _once..._ "

Haruka very nearly loses the battle with a wholly uninvited little smile.

Right there.

In front of _everyone_.

"You've been acceptable," He agrees, as neutrally as he can possibly manage (in the face of Takashi's betrayed little gasp and gradually widening eyes), and pointedly holds his hand out to receive Kousuke's netbook. Palm facing upwards. And fingers lightly splayed. "Let's get this over with, then."

Visibly startled by his senior's uncharacteristic cooperation, Kousuke merely _stares_.

Directly across the round tabletop from Haruka, however, a broadly grinning Shinri isn't showing any qualms about dragging his chair a little closer to Kousuke's (and swinging an openly supportive arm around the younger swimmer's shoulders). " _Skype call!_ " He announces to the rest of the table. Very enthusiastically. And entirely unnecessarily, to boot. "There's never a boring moment with Nanase-senpai around, is there? I can already tell this thing's going to be absolutely _priceless_."

Haruka simply ignores him.

A moment later, Kousuke hesitantly hands over control of the netbook. "The Wi-Fi signal is a little spotty down here, though," He warns Haruka, in an unusually high-pitched manner, as he does so. "It might not be up to the task..."

Far too busy steeling himself for the inevitable — amongst a whole slew of other things he'd rather not examine too closely at the moment (if ever) — Haruka effortlessly manages to shrug _that_ comment off, too. If the Wi-Fi works fine all the way up at the terrace of [the outdoor swimming pool](http://shunde.newworldhotels.com/en/business-leisure/leisure-facilities/) on the fourth floor, then it'll probably work just as well in the needlessly elaborate [Hua Mei Garden](http://shunde.newworldhotels.com/en/dining/hua-mei-garden/). That's what their sponsors are so very enthusiastically shelling out for here in China, isn't it? Word of mouth. Visibility. _Promotion_.

Two tiny little things near the top of the fingerprint-riddled screen in front of Haruka quickly prove absolutely impossible for him to ignore, though...

Haruka frowns.

Hastily exits Kousuke's Twitter application.

And opens up _Skype_ , instead.

As expected, Rin's username is nowhere to be found within the startlingly long list of Kousuke's Skype contacts. Working entirely on auto-pilot (mainly by relying on the muscle memory he'd cultivated during Rin's last couple of semesters abroad), Haruka remedies that immediately. Barely a handful of minutes later, he's carefully placing Kousuke's netbook back down next to the pitcher of orange juice at the centre of the table.

_Boop-boop..._

_Boop..._

_Boop-boop..._

_[Boop](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsUyjzRIU9w)_...

The very second **☆ Rin M. ☑ [ 21:43 Tokyo ] **accepts the call, the noise level at their table drops so abruptly it actually threatens to attract the attention of a nearby group of businessmen (as well as their coach's unwanted scrutiny). But then Rin's openly puzzled — if a little distorted (and equally pixelated) — face finally replaces the static little image on-screen. And, subsequently, Haruka can no longer bring himself to care about anything else going on around him. At all.

Rin's hair is neatly gathered up in a low ponytail. He's wearing a pair of earbuds Haruka's never seen before. And a lopsided little grin.

He looks _nice_.

At a glance, at least, because he also seems to be sitting in a perfectly straight-backed [seiza position](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seiza) on the floor near the foot of _Haruka's_ _bed_. Smack in the middle of _Haruka's room_. And, to make matters even worse, he's almost definitely wearing _one of_ _Haruka's favourite sweatshirts._ The dark grey one Haruka'd been given by Tachibana-san for his 18th birthday: 100% cotton, crew-necked, with a stylised image of an [Atlantic Goliath Grouper](http://oceana.org/marine-life/ocean-fishes/atlantic-goliath-grouper) on the back.

" ** _Haru_**...?!"

Suddenly feeling _twice_ as determined to keep his voice low (and completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever), Haruka chooses to respond with a dry: "Surprise."

"Did you forget your password again?" Rin demands to know. As good as immediately. And if he's even remotely rattled by Haruka's chosen method of breaking their week-long radio silence (or by any of Haruka's accidental little _discoveries_ , even), then he's being very careful not to let it show. In fact, he looks the exact same way he always does during Skype calls: irritably confident, completely in control of the entire situation, and achingly untouchable. "You're not keeping Kousuke-kun hostage off-screen, are you?"

"He's sitting right next to me," Haruka grudgingly offers, as he beckons an endearingly apprehensive-looking Kousuke a little closer. Meanwhile, on Haruka's other side, Takashi's pale face is rapidly beginning to resemble the colour of Hua Mei Garden's marble walls. _Small favours_ , and all that. "There's something he'd like to say to you. It couldn't wait."

It's a little hard to make out, but the blurry lines of Rin's eyebrows seem to disappear right underneath the cover of his bangs (in response to Haruka's purposefully ambiguous little announcement). "And this required _you_ to be present, did it...?"

"No," Haruka readily finds himself acknowledging, then, in an unexpectedly steady tone of voice. "It didn't."

Luckily, Rin doesn't appear to be interested in pressing the issue any further. At the moment, anyway. "Go on, then," He invites, instead. "Tell me why this absolutely couldn't wait until Monday's [dryland](https://mydailyswim.com/drylandstrength-training/) torture. I'm all ears."

 

* * *

 

_**Sunday, November 29, 2009 (SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA):** _

While Shinri, Takashi, Takahiro, Yukihiro, Nobuhiro, Ryuuta, Yuuta, Keita and Junpei appear more than content to spend the majority of Team Japan's brief stopover in Seoul dozing on the faux-leather couches of Asiana Airlines' [Business Class Lounge](http://onemileatatime.img.boardingarea.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Asiana-Lounge-Incheon-Airport-16.jpg), Haruka reluctantly allows himself to be talked into accompanying Kousuke and [Daiya](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daiya_Seto) to [LOTTE's Duty Free Store](http://en.lottedfs.com/branchGuide/7/intro) instead.

With Hirai's _full blessing_ , even. That unrepentant slave-driver.

According to [Incheon](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incheon_International_Airport#Terminals)[ Airport](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incheon_International_Airport#Terminals)'s enormous [Departure Board](http://onemileatatime.img.boardingarea.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Asiana-Lounge-Incheon-Airport-35.jpg), it's currently **5:34 PM**. Which means their little ragtag group of three has got about half-an-hour to kill before they're expected to meet up with the rest of the team. At Gate 117, to be precise.

As soon as the two energetic teenagers in Haruka's charge spot LOTTE's oddly recognisable **COSMETICS & PERFUMES** section (and, _of course_ , the women's 4x100 Freestyle team currently perusing it), though, they immediately dash off towards its entrance. An exasperated Haruka has every intention of following them inside at a far more leisurely pace, but promptly gets distracted by a handful of items being displayed inside a glass-covered counter nearby. Right underneath an overhead sign that reads: **FASHION & ACCESSORIES**.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, Haruka wordlessly rejoins Kousuke and Daiya out in the large hallway on the third floor of Incheon's — undeniably impressive — International Departures Hall. His face feels a little hot. And he's holding a small, [beige-coloured gift bag](http://racingace.com/amazon/mk_gbag_21.jpg). One that proudly says **_Micheal Kors_**. In bold, white lettering.

"That's a pretty expensive brand, isn't it?" Kousuke ventures cautiously, as the three of them begin to make their way towards their appointed gate number. He's carrying a bunch of little bags of his own: two slightly more generic-looking ones (with LOTTE's red logo printed all over them), and [a navy coloured](https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/13795383864_a804392f92.jpg) one that has an intricate little bow wrapped around the handle. "Are you going to tell us who it's for, Nana— I mean, _Haru_ -senpai?"

Haruka's step falters.

Just for a moment, mind you.

"No."

Kousuke politely pretends not to have noticed anything amiss with Haruka's composure. Instead, he smoothly turns to Daiya. "D'you think he's actually managed to get himself a girlfriend back home, Dai-kun? Hirai-sensei'd totally have an aneurysm if he ever found out about something like _that_ , wouldn't he? No wonder Haru-senpai's been keeping it on the down-low..."

Much to Haruka's relief, though, Daiya merely hooks an arm around Kousuke's neck (and proceeds to reel Kousuke in just close enough to successfully mess up that carefully styled coif of his for the fourth or fifth time that day). "You'd better leave me out of this, man," He half-scolds, half-warns, when he appears to be completely satisfied with his impromptu little handiwork. It's a good deal messier than his usual doing, come to think of it. "Some of us poor sods are still trying to get into Nanase-senpai's good graces, y'know?"

Wide-eyed, Kousuke wisely chooses to heed his friend's words.

Except: "Why's that...?"

"Isn't it _obvious_?" Daiya instantly continuous. With nothing short of the dramatic flair Haruka has unconsciously come to expect of Rin's favourite subordinate. And in a perfectly executed stage whisper, as well. "He might be able to put in a good word for me with Masako-chan!"

Haruka throws them both a very sour look in response. Pointedly picks up the pace. And makes a wholly fruitless attempt at keeping his thoughts from lingering on anything even remotely concerning: Rin, dating, or any combination of the two.

 

* * *

 

_**Monday, November 30, 2009 (TOKYO, JAPAN):**_

Spurred on by the nigh-overwhelming urge to stretch his legs, Haruka decides to take one of the much slower trains on the [Keisei Line](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keisei_Main_Line) all the way down to [Ueno](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ueno).

Just this once.

The journey home from Narita Airport's blissfully serene Terminal 1 takes about half an hour longer than it really _should_ , this way around, but the 1,2 km walk from [Keisei-Ueno Station](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keisei_Ueno_Station) to the [2LDK](http://japaninfoswap.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/2LDK-Apartment.jpg) apartment he's been sharing with Rin for the past three months — just a stone's throw from [Nezu-jinja](https://www.jnto.go.jp/eng/spot/shritemp/nezujinja.html), situated within Tokyo's bustling [Bunkyou-ku](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bunky%C5%8D) — is exactly what he needs: perfectly crisp, refreshing, and just the right dose of fortifying.

It's well past midnight by the time he's finally toeing off his shoes, though.

Inside a pitch-black, utterly silent [genkan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genkan). And with only the light of his cellphone to guide him down the hallway, past the perpetually opened door of Rin's bedroom (as well as the properly closed one of his own), and into the temporary sanctuary of the bathroom.

Turning on the temperamental little light above the sink, brushing his teeth, changing out of his frankly disgusting clothes, rinsing off all of the accumulated travel grime, and gratefully sinking into the lukewarm bathwater Rin'd thoughtfully left for him to use are comfortingly familiar motions by now. As is dutifully hanging up his damp towel over one of the plastic bars above the bathtub once he's done with it.

Finding Rin fast asleep in his bed, however, is decidedly _new_.

"I'm home," Haruka's traitorous mouth eventually manages to blurt out, at the tail end of an embarrassingly long pause, while the rest of him continues desperately scrambling about for an appropriate course of action. His right hand ends up hovering uncertainly over the —  distractingly _magnetic_ — pair of ankles sticking out from underneath the duvet. While his left one gradually tightens its grip on the plastic case of his cellphone. "What are you doing in my bed, Rin...?"

As expected, Rin doesn't even stir.

Heart lodged firmly in his throat, Haruka places his luggage down near the foot of the bed. With that particular hurdle out of the way, he finally allows himself to set his cellphone down on the bedside table — right next to vague outlines of Rin's customary 1L-sized bottle of tap water (which is currently occupying the spot  that's usually reserved for Haruka's neat little travel clock) — and carefully readjust the very edge of the heavy duvet. Until it's securely covering Rin's bare feet and ankles once more.

Still.

"You're having nightmares again, aren't you?" He forces himself to persist, then, even as he reaches a hand out to apologetically ghost the backs of his fingers along Rin's slack jaw. "That's why you were in here on Saturday, too. Instead of just calling me. _Idiot_."

It's nothing out of the ordinary, really.

Rin's actions. As well as Haruka's increasingly irrepressible _re-_ actions to them, to be honest.

"You could've just told me," He finds himself continuing, a moment later, in a much gentler whisper. "I'd have tried to help you, Rin."

This time, though, the Rin-shaped lump on Haruka's bed _does_ respond to the sound of his name.

There's a soft grunt. Along with a slightly louder creak (as Rin drowsily rolls over to face _the other way_ ). And a rough, croaky, and undeniably exhausted-sounding: "You can lecture me in the morning, Haru. Just get in here already, would you...?"

Feeling equally worn-out all of a sudden, Haruka grudgingly concedes defeat. "No more lectures," He ends up assuring the warm skin at the nape of Rin's neck instead, lips keenly reacquainting themselves with every last centimetre of it they can comfortably reach, as soon as he's wedged himself into place. At Rin's back. With his right hand resting lightly on top of the pleasantly familiar little jut of Rin's pyjama-clad hip. Where it almost seems to belong. These days. "Just [omiyage](http://omiyagejapan.com/englishpage1.htm). From Seoul."

Despite the oddly catching fatigue slurring his words, Rin _still_ manages to crane his neck. Very self-indulgently so, even. 

"It's not a bottle of [soju](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soju), is it?"

Feeling mildly offended, Haruka allows his teeth to firmly graze the prominent little bump at the base of Rin's spine. Before slowly — and a good deal more obligingly, at that — nosing his way up.

Up...

 _Up_...

Right into the hot little fold behind Rin's ear, where he never fails to smell like everything Haruka has foolishly come to love about him over the past couple of months: the ever-present scent of chlorine, a dash of maddeningly expensive products, and something utterly unique that steadfastly refuses to be named. Something like dedication, ambition, frustration, and temptation. All neatly rolled into one.

"Why would I need to give you that? You're already in my bed," Haruka half-heartedly admonishes, then, as he purposefully tugs Rin even deeper into into his one-armed embrace. It's a surprising easy thing to do, too, to be honest. A practised move. Habitual. Practically _perfected_ , even. Like two puzzle pieces slotting into place. "Go back to sleep. You'll find out in a couple of hours."

It's hardly a surprise when Rin's muffled reply comes in the form of an entirely unintelligible — and almost comically belated, as well — little rumble. But the way he drowsily hooks his thumb around Haruka's own speaks for itself.

Loud.

And very clear.

 

* * *

 

_**Saturday, December 5, 2009 (KOWLOON, HONG KONG):** _

It's **8:32 PM**.

They're backstage. _Sort of_.

For the opening ceremony of the [5th East Asian Games](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swimming_at_the_2009_East_Asian_Games), this time. Which is being held inside the terrifyingly massive [Hong Kong Cultural Centre](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hong_Kong_Cultural_Centre) (situated smack in the middle of [Tsim Sha Tsui](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsim_Sha_Tsui)'s equally impressive [Victoria Harbour](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Victoria_Harbour)).

There's a whole lot of fireworks. And another tearjerker of a [hymn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GO3TpWmBQY), as well.

Perhaps more importantly, though, the entire delegation of competing athletes — hailing from nine different nations: China, North Korea, Japan, South Korea, Macau, Mongolia, Chinese Taipei, Guam, and Hong Kong — has been brought together on a lavishly decorated _[boat](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2009_East_Asian_Games_opening_ceremony)_. For the occasion.

Well.

Aside from the rather unfortunate ones that are expected to take to the stage a little later tonight, that is. Six per nation, to be exact. Including one flag-bearer.

Because, in sharp contrast to the World Aquatic Championships, this latest edition of the East Asian Games will consist of over two-hundred individual events. All neatly divided over twenty-two different sports (including sixteen Olympic ones). Which means that — over the next couple of days, anyway — Japan will be represented by no less than _four-hundred twenty-seven_ _hopeful athletes_.

There's simply no way they'd all fit onto the floating stage together, is there?

And, as a result, there isn't a single thing stopping Haruka from leisurely sketching the people seated closest to him on the deck: a proudly gesticulating Ryou (who seems to be 100% determined to narrate absolutely everything that's currently happening on the little screens above their heads), Ryousuke's patiently smiling profile, [Satomi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Satomi_Suzuki)'s brand new haircut, and, of course, _Rin_.

Rin, who'd politely turned down any and all invitations to join Hirai and [Uchida](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sho_Uchida) at the guardrails on the foredeck. All in favour of sticking as close as possible to Haruka's preferred seat. Near the very back of the boat.

Rin, who happens to be wearing [the gift](http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/517I%2BQTkzEL.jpg) Haruka'd so very impulsively bought for him in Seoul: a double wrap-style bracelet, made out of textured leather, with a polished buckle and a padlock-shaped little charm dangling from its centre. Which boldly peeks out from under the sleeve of his jacket (every now and then). Like a declaration. Of _something_.

Rin, whose socked toes have been lightly brushing the inside of Haruka's right ankle for the past fifteen minutes or so. On and off. Underneath the barely adequate cover of the wooden table they'd — along with the rest of the 4x100 Freestyle team, as it happens — made themselves comfortable at. Ever since the first couple of fireworks had lit up the night-sky.

Rin, who's barely even making an effort to hide his impatience.

Or any of his unmistakable _intentions_ , for that matter.

And whose fiery, heavy-lidded gaze quickly proves impossible to reproduce on the open page of Haruka's sketchbook.

 

* * *

 

_**Tuesday, December 8, 2009 (KOWLOON, HONG KONG):** _

In an oddly fitting reversal of their roles back in Belgrade, Haruka — who'd rudely been ushered towards the 5th starting block by a rather harried-looking official or other (only a handful of seconds before the actual start of the last 100m Freestyle heat on the schedule) — ends up touching the wall at 51.04.

In fourth place.

 _Overall_.

Out of a measly eighteen swimmers, to be exact.

And he'd done so at Hirai's unflinching request, even: _"It's not a question of stamina or power, Nanase. You've obviously got the makings of a remarkable long distance swimmer. The whole team knows I wouldn't hesitate to put you on the roster for the 1500m, should it ever strike your fancy! But your talent for sprinting is a little bit like a double-edged sword, isn't it? Let me teach you how to wield it properly. You can't keep relying on the competition to bring out the best of you forever, after all. Learn how to rely on your own strength, instead. And that of your long-suffering coach's, as well, if you're feeling generous. You've already begun to care about the numbers in your own unique way, haven't you? Prove it. Give me a neat little 51. Right on the dot."_

"You're not actually sulking over _a heat_ , are you?" Rin half-teases, half-commiserates, as he sympathetically pushes down an armful of the red floats separating their assigned lanes (and effectively propels Haruka right back into the present, while he's at it). "I'm not exactly pleased with my 50.18 either, y'know...? If it makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't," Haruka replies, somewhat testily, even as he gratefully wades over to slip into Rin's offered space. "There was no need for you to synch up with me like that. Why didn't you go all out from the start?"

In stark contrast with the instant rebuttal Haruka is fully expecting to receive, Rin merely averts his eyes.

Guiltily.

And a touch apprehensively, too. Perhaps.

"Did you really hate it that much?"

Even though he'd very much like to pretend otherwise, Haruka knows — just _knows_ , as if by instinct, somehow — that Rin isn't simply talking about the results of [the 100m Freestyle heats](http://www.hkasa.org.hk/images/SWIM/Overseas/5thEAG/Book_All_Results.pdf) anymore. "I trust Hirai," He deflects. Or attempts to, anyway. "I don't have to like his strategy for it to work. It'll pay off in the final tomorrow."

Once again, though, Rin's response catches him by surprise. "What happened to only _'swimming free'_...?"

"Nothing," Haruka hears himself insist, then, on something akin unnervingly close to a knee-jerk retaliation. Even so, the two little syllables rolling off of his tongue — and right over the irritatingly chapped line of his bottom lip — still ring true. "This isn't one of your nightmares, Rin. And it isn't mine, either. Not anymore, at least. You're the one who's responsible for _that_ , aren't you?"

Rin abruptly releases a breath Haruka hadn't even noticed he'd been holding.

Nods.

And says: "Let's get out of here."

 

* * *

 

_**Wednesday, December 9, 2009 (KOWLOON, HONG KONG):** _

At exactly **10:10 AM** , Hirai places one of his impossibly large hands down over the base of Haruka's neck. And with his other one, he determinedly reels an unusually restless — and already _fully geared-up_ , too — Rin in.

Closer. Closer. _Closer_.

Until Haruka's feet are bracketed by Rin's slightly larger ones. And the two of them are standing _together_.

Right there.

Forehead to forehead.

And, finally, _eye-to-eye_. Just minutes before they're expected to face each other in the final of the 100m Freestyle (in an entirely different sort of way).

"I'm giving each of you forty-eight seconds to show your opponents a glimpse of the future," Hirai tells them, then, in the exact same tone of voice he always uses: strong, steady, and just the right side of stern. " _Telepathically_ , y'hear...? I dare say it takes quite a lot of concentration, so you'd better keep your lips sealed until I'm completely through with the two of you."

Feeling rather bemused, Haruka impatiently — and very unsubtly so, most likely — shifts his weight. From his right leg to his left. And then back again.

"I trust you'll use this extremely thoughtful bullshit of mine wisely," Hirai continues, undeterred, as if the three of them have got all the time in the world for pointless chitchatting. Under the guise of a respectable [huddle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huddle). Or _something_. "No more Cruise Control. Let everyone know what Japan's talented sprinters have got in store for them. Give them an appetiser for London, as well. Make them raise our flag. _Twice_."

Rin furrows his brows. Snorts. And then, much to Haruka's rising consternation, he _grins_. In a manner that effortlessly sets the smouldering embers in Haruka's chest ablaze. All over again. Like there's nothing to it. At all.

"You've got it, Hirai-sensei," He then decides (for both of them), voice low and full of conviction, as he — 100% _deliberately_ , no doubt — settles into a perfect mirror of Haruka's current stance. "That's what we came here to do, isn't it? Aside from raking in an entire army of [funky little ](http://www.squashsite.co.uk/2009/2010images/ea_gam9.jpg)[mascots](http://www.squashsite.co.uk/2009/2010images/ea_gam9.jpg), I mean. For Haru's collection."

Haruka narrows his eyes, removes a stubborn drop of water from the bridge of his nose, and promptly swallows down the embarrassingly emotional response his treacherous heart suddenly wants him to give voice to. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is:

" _'Forty-eight'_...? You'd better watch your back in that case, Rin. I'm not planning on needing that many."

He'll do it in 47.99. Just to prove that he _can_.

To himself.

First and foremost.

 

* * *

 

_**Friday, December 11, 2009 (KOWLOON, HONG KONG):** _

 

* * *

 

_**Sunday, December 13, 2009 (KOWLOON, HONG KONG):** _

The LED-display of Haruka's trusty little travel clock reads **11:41 PM**. And the current temperature of their [Harbour Park-view room](http://www.bpih.com.hk/eng/Accommodation/HarbourParkview.aspx) — on [B.P. International](http://www.bpih.com.hk/eng/Default.aspx)'s 23rd floor — is an agreeable **22°C** , courtesy of Kowloon's semi-subtropical climate.

It's quiet.

A peaceful, well-deserved type of quiet.

The lights have been dimmed to the lowest possible setting. The **PLEASE** **DO NOT DISTURB** sign is up. And the view outside their window is undeniably mesmerising: the trio of outdoor pools at the edge of [Kowloon Park Swimming Pool's](http://www.lcsd.gov.hk/en/parks/kp/indoor/swimming_pool.html) enormous complex are all lit up (like a swarm of aquamarine fireflies), the mountains in the distance have no trouble dwarfing even the tallest of the city's skyscrapers, and the calm waters of Victoria Harbour seem to reflect the cloudless sky perfectly. Much like a mirror. Or an Impressionist's painting.

Even so, Haruka's heavy-lidded gaze keeps straying back down to the top of Rin's head. Where it's resting on his shoulder.

Snugly.

Comfortably.

Like it simply _belongs_. Right there.

"Rin," Haruka forces himself to begin, then, because he knows he can't possibly put it off any longer. He has to get this over with. And he has to do it _tonight._ While the two of them are still occupying neutral ground (and [the dual-coloured ribbons](http://www.gettyimages.be/detail/nieuwsfoto's/yoshihiro-okumura-of-japan-raises-his-gold-medal-to-his-nieuwsfotos/94103438#yoshihiro-okumura-of-japan-raises-his-gold-medal-to-his-mouth-on-the-picture-id94103438) of their hard-earned medals remain an entangled mess on top of the night stand in between the beds). "How long do I have to keep pretending I'm not in love with you?" And then, in the very same breath, he quickly adds: "To _you_."

Within Haruka's — intentionally slackened — embrace, Rin's bare back immediately tenses.

It feels a little bit like a warning.

And an _incentive_.

All at once.

"I'm not even very good at it," Haruka barrels on, in a gratifyingly steady tone of voice, when it eventually becomes apparent he's not going to receive a verbal reply. Not any time soon, at least. "I haven't been bothering at all. Since that Skype call. In Foshan."

Much to his credit, though, Rin doesn't even try to extricate himself. Physically, or otherwise.

Instead, he simply raises his head. "That makes two of us, doesn't it...?" He half-muses, half-concedes, as soon as their eyes meet. And then, as if to prove his point, he slowly brings his right arm up in between their faces. Until he's lightly pressing the inside of his wrist to Haruka's reflexively parting lips. "Even though I'm nowhere near as fucking fish-brained as you are, I mean. What're you rocking the boat for like this, Haru? We've already thrown the oars overboard, you know? We're going to sink at this rate. And _soon_."

Haruka self-indulgently lets an exhale fan out across Rin's pulse point, softly kisses it a couple of times, and — somewhat uncertainly, to be honest — allows himself to linger there. For a long, unexpectedly heartening moment.

It feels nice.

Warm.

And it kind of tastes a little salty on the very tip of his tongue, too.

Once Rin's skin is shiny and slick with his saliva, though, he reluctantly draws back to replace his mouth with the thumb and index finger of his left hand. Like a substitute bracelet. And an unspoken acknowledgement, as well. "What are you so afraid of?" He quietly asks the palm of Rin's hand, then, in an oddly befitting echo of the appeal he'd found himself making back in Belgrade. Exactly six months ago, now.

**_'What're you waiting for, then?'_ **

He'd had his back pressed up against a flat surface — and Rin practically moulded to his chest, come to think of it — back then, too.

Just like _this_.

Except, this time, Rin isn't playing him for a fool anymore. "Never making it to shore, I guess," He tells Haruka, just as quietly, instead. Without even a hint of his customary fanfare. Or his earlier sentimentality, for that matter. "There's a whole lot of weight dragging us down, isn't there? And you just had to go and add some more. It's fucking _terrifying_. That's what it is."

It's going to take a little more than that to discourage Haruka, though. "If you think throwing metaphors and insults — "

"I thought you said you weren't cut out for this shit, anyway?" Rin abruptly cuts in, there, even as he reaches out to brush a wayward strand of hair out of Haruka's eyes. Habitually. Apologetically. And a little _defiantly_ , somehow, too. "What happens if you change your mind again, Haru? I wouldn't even be able to hold it against you. I made a right mess of things, didn't I? And no matter how you twist and turn it, this isn't what either of us _wanted_."

Haruka's fingers tighten their grip on Rin's wrist. All of their own accord. "What did you want, then?"

Rin swallows.

Very audibly so.

And then, in spite of everything, he abruptly lowers his head back down to Haruka's shoulder. "You know what they say about liquid courage, don't you...?" He hoarsely whispers into Haruka's skin, then, as if the words are barbed and foul-tasting. "Don't get me wrong, though. I'm not exactly a lightweight, am I? I knew what I was doing that night. At the Belgrade Art. The entire time."

Haruka is pretty sure he doesn't like the sound of that. Not even a tiny, little bit. "Just what are you implying, Rin?"

"Aren't you getting a little full of yourself, _sweetheart_?" Rin instantly counters. Or _diverts_ , even. In a way that has no business being even half as comforting to Haruka as it actually is. And with his nose still buried deep in the crook of Haruka's neck, to top things off. "I wasn't lying when I told you what I'd been letting Radovan get me so buzzed for, OK? I just didn't tell you the whole truth, that's all."

A muscle underneath Haruka's let eye twitches. "Your nightmares...?"

Rin nods. As he does so, the tip of his nose gets caught on a tense muscle in Haruka's neck. Just for a split-second. "Did you know I've never had the same one twice?" He breathes into Haruka's skin, then, like he's hunting for goosebumps. Or another harebrained confession or two. Maybe. "Except for the one that's all about _you_ , Haru. You've always been special that way, I guess."

Haruka's fickle hands are already tugging Rin up — by the armpits, in fact — long before the rest of him has even had time to digest what he's being told, though. "Rin," He says. Demands. _Begs_. "Stop hiding your face."

Against all of the odds, Rin actually obliges him. With a fleeting, terribly watery sort of smile. And an even briefer kiss. Right on top of Haruka's forehead, of all the possible places.

"I'd only meant to come out to you that night," He chooses to reveal to Haruka, then, so very earnestly — and so very _abruptly_ , as well — that the words end up awkwardly tripping over each other's feet. "That's all I ever really let myself _want_ , y'know? You've got no idea how desperate I was getting to prove my own fucking brain wrong. I just needed a little —"

" _'Liquid courage'_?" Haruka interjects, with a pained little smile of his own, before reaching out to softly touch the little 'V' at the centre of Rin's upper lip. With the pad of his thumb. The exact same way Rin'd done to him in Hotel Breza. "Did it work?"

Rin simply nods.

Again.

And, then, Haruka's suddenly being dragged — very bodily, at that — out of the comfort of the bed they'd kind of just happened to gravitate towards earlier that night (after dimming the lights, turning their phones off, and neatly hanging their identical uniforms over the back of the chair by the desk). Just like that.

"I got a little more than I bargained for, though," Rin adds, out of nowhere, as soon as he's got them both positioned where he clearly wants them to be. Toe-to-toe. Wearing nothing but their underwear. And with their hands loosely clasped at shoulder height. On one side, only. "I took my recurrent nightmare and turned it into one hell of an idealistic daydream. Can you really blame me for not wanting to wake up from it just yet, Haru?"

"Lay off the meta — "

As expected, though, Rin easily cuts Haruka's tired complaint off. "Dance with me," He urges, instead. A little nervously. And in a total non-sequitur, to boot. "[Like lovers do](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzFnYcIqj6I), OK...?"

Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Haruka can only tighten his grip on Rin's proffered hand and resign himself to his fate. "You're going to give me whiplash," He eventually manages to inform Rin, voice embarrassingly high-pitched, as he grudgingly allows himself to be coaxed into a more suitable position. For dancing. With Rin's right hand resting lightly on the small of his back. And his own free one hooked a little more firmly around the base of Rin's neck. "I thought you didn't want to rock the boat, _honey_."

For all that, though, Haruka doesn't even try to stop Rin from purposefully bringing their chests — and the front of their thighs, too — together. He even lets Rin wordlessly guide him across the carpeted floor, too. In narrow, lopsided little circles.

Swaying.

Back and forth.

To a rhythm neither of them can actually hear. _Together_.

Until the heat radiating from Rin's body is starting to make Haruka feel a little light-headed (and it's taking just about everything he has to keep himself from ineptly humming the chorus of [the hymn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXY2OH7-SR8) Rin'd instantly fallen in love with back in Rome, as well).

"It's almost midnight," He tries, instead, and isn't all that bothered when it comes out sounding rough and uneven. Not this time. "Isn't it about time we stopped dancing around the issue, Rin?"

Rin makes a soft, breathless little noise in response. It sounds a whole lot like an aborted chuckle, to be honest. And it kindly provides Haruka with just enough of an excuse to lean in and ghost his lips over the warm patch of skin right underneath Rin's nose, too.

Lightly.

Delicately.

If very, very, very _intently_.

"What're you always in such a rush for, Haru...?" Rin inevitably rebukes him, then, like clockwork. As if the clammy palm slowly easing its way down the back of Haruka's left thigh doesn't belong to him at all (and he's never even seen the set of fingers encouragingly squeezing Haruka's hand before, either). "It's not like I'm wearing a pair of glass slippers, you idiot. You're nursing some serious abandonment issues there, d'you know that?"

Undeterred, Haruka simply bats Rin's hand away.

Warns: "Don't make me call you _'princess'_."

And — surprisingly easily, if anything — tugs an utterly dumbfounded Rin into a perfectly executed little _twirl_. By the hip, even.

"Would it kill you to — "

Haruka doesn't feel like it, though. Instead, he pointedly places his hands on either side of Rin's face and brings their mouths together. Into an unmistakably needy, open-mouthed type of kiss. _Finally_. "I'm not going to change my mind," He breathes into Rin's mouth, then, all the while blindly manoeuvring the mess of their combined limbs into the direction of the nearest bed. "But in return, I'm expecting you to tell me about the rest of your nightmares. As much or as little as you're comfortable with. And after that, you're going to let me _help you_." "

Rin's back hits the mattress with a terrible mix of sounds: something hovering awkwardly in between a choked gasp, an audible wince, and an involuntary little whimper. For a second, it almost looks like he's going to _bolt_.

Right out the door.

And out of Haruka's life, too. For good measure. Without even leaving a glass slipper behind, at that.

"You can't keep holding everyone at arm's length forever," Haruka resolutely presses down, albeit as gently as possible, exactly where he knows it'll hurt — both of them, that is — the most. "Let me do this for you, Rin. We'll figure it out together. We'll be _fine._ "

Rin inhales a shaky breath.

In turn, Haruka forgets to exhale.

And then: "Hypothetically...?"

Lips twitching, Haruka leans down to press a soothing kiss down over Rin's erratically beating heart. In favour of a verbal response. And isn't at all surprised when Rin lets him get away with it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far: **THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH THIS STORY UNTIL THE VERY END!!**
> 
> I hope you managed to enjoy it at least a little bit. Please consider leaving me a comment to let me know what you liked/disliked, though. I've been agonising over this story or the last three months. Take pity on me, I beg of you. ♡ (JUST BE GENTLE, OK? My heart is very fragile.)
> 
> P.S. About that Eurythmics quote: I feel like Rin genuinely meant the sentiment, but couldn't manage to say it without having an excuse like, "They're lyrics, you idiot! What rock have you been living under for the past decade or two...?" ready. It ends up flying over Haruka's head, of course, so that link is probably a little out of place. STILL. I wanted to include it, in case it wasn't clear where the reference came from. x'D


End file.
